


Title Acquisitions

by Papook



Series: Jocasta Jones and the Librarian Clones [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Humor, LIIL Squad, Revenge of the customer service workers, Star Wars AU - Soft Wars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27387841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papook/pseuds/Papook
Summary: There are as many ways to get a name as there are clones in the GAR.LIIL Squad earns theirs.
Series: Jocasta Jones and the Librarian Clones [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951591
Comments: 43
Kudos: 227
Collections: Open Source Soft Wars





	Title Acquisitions

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, all the thanks to [Primarybufferpanel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLune/pseuds/Primarybufferpanel) for the beta and pointing out the gaping plot holes I needed to fix.

Oh-Nine smoothed down the patterned bronze silk of his waistcoat and took a deep breath. After three weeks packed to the bulkheads with training, he and his squad were going to be working in the Archives for the first time today. Just reference desk duty; thankfully, it was between class sets for the padawans and initiates, so the squad didn’t have to attempt to help with the research classes until after their own skills were more practiced. There was just _so much_ to learn. Databases, catalogs, protocols, daily SOP—it seemed endless. It was vastly different from anything on Kamino, exhilarating and overwhelming at the same time.

But today the whole squad would be working together at the central reference desk, and they could cover each other’s weak spots. Madame Nu would check in with them in between her other duties, but she said it was time for them to apply what they had learned and see what came of it.

He tugged at his waistcoat one more time, felt the edges of the mini datapad in the breast pocket press against his chest. Tapped his fingers over the multitude of pockets concealed in his wide black obi, checking that the various spare styluses and datacrystals and swipe cards were settled, and slid a thumb along the obi’s glimmering blue trim.

He could do this. It would be fine. This wasn’t Kamino.

A patron approached. Oh-Nine stilled his hands and put on his most professional face. “Can I help you?”

The patron, a humanoid male with meticulously coiffed hair and an extravagantly tall collar, gave Oh-Nine a smile that he immediately distrusted. Up until he had left Kamino three weeks ago, Oh-Nine had spent every moment on the alert for those who would bully or harass or hurt his brothers. He knew the type, in every permutation, especially since getting between his brothers and bullies in positions of authority was what got him sent to decom. He wasn’t going to take _osik_ from people who thought they could pull one over on him here in the Jedi Temple any more than he had on Kamino.

Oh-Nine did not let any of that show in his thoughts or on his face.

“I was looking for a few holobooks but they seem to be missing. Could you find these titles for me?”

“Of course,” Oh-Nine said calmly, and took the offered sheet of flimsi. “If you will scan your ident card, I’ll put a hold on these titles for you and set up an alert to let you know when they are ready to be picked up.”

The _ori'jagyc_ ran his card through the scanner with a smarmy little flourish. “Thanks ever so.” He flashed another plastoid grin and sauntered away.

Oh-Nine looked at the list of holobooks. He keyed them into the catalog search and read the notice that popped up. There were hundreds of different data formats stored in the Archives. It looked like these holobooks were the kind that required a special interface and thus were locked to a specific holopad—otherwise the book files would have automatically reverted back to the Archive system when the check-out period was over, regardless of whether or not the holopad itself was returned. Checked out in 681 ARR—hell, that was over three centuries ago—and never returned. Patron ID: Yoda. 

Clearly, Mr. Plastoid Grin had decided it would be good fun to screw with a clone by setting him up for a mission it was obvious he would never be able to complete. Oh-Nine had hoped that the Jedi were better than this sort of pettiness, but he wasn't actually surprised. Not everyone could be like General Ti or Madame Nu.

_Fine_ , Oh-Nine thought, and set his jaw. If that’s how he wanted to play it? _Fine_.

*****

Yoda floated out of the Council Chamber on his hoverchair. It had been a long, thoroughly depressing meeting. This blasted war. He had wanted to live out his last years in peace, and this was not peaceful in the slightest.

A clone was waiting beyond the doors, hands tucked behind his back in parade rest. Yoda eyed him with a bit of wariness. He had agreed with the decision to bring some clones to the temple in order to save them from being euthanized by the cloners, a thought which still troubled him deeply. He did not object to their presence here. But the fact was they were under the care of Jocasta Nu, who had been surreptitiously making trouble since she was shorter than Yoda, and certainly hadn’t stopped as she got taller, despite what everyone else seemed to think. Yoda had a long memory. He knew better. 

“Master Yoda, sir,” the clone said as Yoda came abreast of him. 

“Need something, do you?” Yoda asked, ears drooping in resignation.

“Yes, sir, I need to talk to you about some overdue holobooks.”

Yoda’s ears stiffened. “Holobooks?”

“Yessir. There are five holobooks that are checked out to you and according to the Archive system, they are three hundred and six years overdue. They’ve been requested by another patron, sir, and you need to return them.”

Oh, the holobook prank. About once every decade some wit would ask the librarians to find some holobooks that were apparently still checked out to him. Usually the librarians just left him passive aggressive comm messages about returning the books. Apparently this young one had other ideas.

Behind him, Master Koth abruptly sneezed like an eeopie as he exited the Council Chamber. The clone glanced up at the unexpected honk, and Yoda saw his chance.

Yoda cackled as he spun his chair around and opened the throttle.

*****

Yoda was feeling markedly more cheerful after a visit to the creche. The clone had not pursued him after his escape in front of the council room, so Yoda considered the matter of the overdue books dropped.

He said goodbye to the younglings, accepted a handmade card covered in glitter, and opened the door.

“Master Yoda, sir— “

He shut the door. He’d just take the back route through the gardens.

*****

His peaceful stroll through the gardens became an undignified scramble into a bush when the clone appeared, stalking slowly along the path toward him.

Black boots stopped in front of his chosen bush. “Master Yoda, I still need you to return your overdue books, regardless of your fondness for vegetation.”

Yoda levitated a rock into a pond on the opposite side of the path and burrowed away while the clone was distracted.

*****

Jocasta Nu answered her comm. “May I help you?” she said, her holo-projection turning to look at him.

Yoda harrumphed. “Your charge, misplaced you have.”

“All my assistants are exactly where they should be, I assure you, Grandmaster.” 

“And harassing me, one should be, hmmm?”

“As I said, Grandmaster,” Madame Nu said with unmarred serenity. She was _absolutely_ laughing at him.

*****

Yoda did his best to blend in with the midmeal rush in the commissary but he was far too recognizable. All he wanted to do was hide behind someone’s legs, for Force’s sake. But no, everyone had to be polite and respectful and _make way._

Darksiders, the lot of them.

*****

The damnable clone was waiting _outside the fresher!_ Was nowhere sacred?!

*****

Yoda peeked warily around the doorframe. He had retreated to his quarters after being followed to the hangar, the communications hub, the salles, the initiates quarters, the quartermaster, three High Councilors' rooms, and the meditation rooms. It certainly would have taken less effort for Yoda to simply retrieve the holobooks than it had to be chased all over the Temple, but after his first escape outside the Council Chamber he had been _committed_ to his evasions. He simply had not expected to be pursued for so long, nor tracked down no matter where he went or what evasive maneuvers he took. It had been nearly a full day, and yet the clone was still doggedly following him with no sign of faltering. No one else had ever put so much effort into retrieving those holobooks. 

The hall to the left was clear. The hall to the right….

The clone stood up from where he was leaning against the wall and crossed his arms.

“Ridiculous, this is,” Yoda grumbled.

“My job, this is, sir, and one you are preventing me from doing.”

“Give this up, you will not?” It was barely a question—more an admission of defeat.

“Patron assistance is my highest priority, sir.”

Yoda emerged from his room twenty minutes later and smacked the stack of holopads into the clone’s shins. The holopads thudded against the concealed armor plating of the clone's boots. He didn’t even have the decency to wince. 

(Yoda had had to meditate to remember if he even _had_ the holobooks, and then meditate _longer_ to remember where they might have ended up. He had finally found the holopads in a kitchen cabinet, pushed to the back of a slightly-above-head-height shelf and hidden by a box of long-expired tea.)

“Thank you for your assistance, sir. We of the Archives staff are most appreciative. Please remember in the future that holopads are to be checked out no longer than four weeks or your checkout privileges will be rescinded.” The clone tucked the pads under his arm and bowed smartly. “Force be with you, Master Yoda.”

“And with you, most stubborn youngling.” Yoda bowed in return, rueful admiration coloring his words. “Successful as this, I hope all your endeavors are.”

*****

“You have my books?” _Ori'jagyc_ —a one Caren Rhoda—leaned on the desk like he was just _waiting_ for Oh-Nine to say no. Rhoda's posture said he was confident in how this would go: the books wouldn’t be here, Oh-Nine would have to apologize, and Rhoda would be gracious about it in the most condescending way possible. Rhoda tapped his ident card on the desk in a rhythm almost as aggravating as his smug grin.

Unfortunately for Rhoda, no battle plan ever survived the first engagement with the enemy.

Oh-Nine placed a sheet of flimsi on the desk and held up five holopads.

“ _Brokering Peace: The Galactic Alliance of the Old Republic_.” The holopad settled on the desk with a click.

“ _Effects of Bpfasshi Dark Force Users on Planetary Commerce_.” Click.

“ _Establishing Causes of Interspecies Conflict on Mon Cala: An In-Depth Analysis of Resource Allocation and the Effects on Cultural Structure_." Click.

“ _Supreme Chancellor Saresh, from Galactic Rebuilder to a Splintered Republic_ ,” click, “and, _The Forbidden Jedi Bodyguards: The Force Made You for Me_.” Click. 

Rhoda looked like he'd been clubbed in the head with a rotary cannon. “Your card, please?” Oh-Nine said pleasantly. When Rhoda made no move to give it to him, Oh-Nine slipped the card from Rhoda's lax grasp and scanned it. Scanned the holopads, stacked them neatly, placed the card precisely on top, and pushed the whole stack into Rhoda's unresisting hands, who didn't seem to know what to do now that his assumptions had been shattered.

“Thank you for visiting the Archives. We look forward to seeing you again.” Oh-Nine took a small step back from the desk, just enough to give him a little room, and sent Rhoda off with the _most_ satisfying kark-you-kindly twist on a salute of his entire Force-blessed life.

“Excellently done,” Madame Nu said behind him as Rhoda wandered away with his holopads in a daze.

Oh-Nine turned to her and bowed. Madame had told them that salutes were...slightly impolitic in the Temple, that bows were customary, but she didn’t seem bothered by his salute to the _or'dinii_. Madame Nu wasn’t bothered by a lot of things that his previous trainers had been hung up on. “I couldn’t have done it without your help, Madame.” 

When the request for the books had come in, Oh-Nine had taken it to Madame Nu, asking about the proper protocol. He had been...hesitant at first. His previous experience with authority figures had been poor at best. But he'd remembered her goodbye to General Ti, and her willingness to answer any and every question he or his brothers had asked. Madame Nu had _requested_ them, and she had thrown her whole weight behind giving them the training to succeed here in the Archives. She didn't want them to fail. So he'd firmed up his courage and gone to ask her for help, and she had entered into his scheme with enthusiasm. She had authorized him to leave his post at the desk to go hunt down the holobooks, and helped keep him updated on Yoda’s location via comm. 

"Oh-Nine, there was a _reason_ that those books had remained missing for three centuries, and it wasn’t because we didn’t know who had them. No one else has managed to pry them out of Yoda’s clutches. Only _you_ have been dedicated enough to retrieve them. You are a remarkably tenacious young man.” Her bearing was stern but her eyes were warm.

He flushed. “Thank you, Madame.” She gave him a tiny smile and turned back to her work. 

Oh-Nine shot a look at his new squadmates. They were working at the central desk with him again, spaced out along its curve, and had been watching his interaction with the patron like shriek-hawks. Eight-One and Eight-Five both battlesigned a quick 'excellent!' at him, eyes bright with amusement. Seven-Oh was nearly face down on the desk, squeaking with suppressed laughter. Three-Five thumped Seven-Oh's shoulder and moved to stand next to Oh-Nine.

“ _Ori ramikadyc,_ Oh-Nine,” Three-Five said, grinning, and tapped their forearms together. His squadmates thought he was determined, and Yoda had called him stubborn, but Oh-Nine decided he liked Madame’s descriptor best. _Remarkably tenacious._ That felt right, and not only because it had come from Madame. That felt like something he could wear as a badge of honor. As a name. 

_(Tenacious_ was a bit of a mouthful in Basic, but in Mando'a….)

“ _Atin_ ,” he said, and smiled. “Call me Atin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Credit goes to Sol for naming Caren Rhoda
> 
> Credit for the book titles goes to Tessa, Ace, Lady, and the rest of the discord chaos gremlins
> 
> Mando'a Definitions (from Mandoa.org)
> 
> osik-- shit  
> ori'jagyc-- bully, swaggering big-mouth - someone who picks on someone smaller - lit. *big man*  
> or'dinii-- fool, moron  
> ori-- big, extreme, very  
> ramikadyc--commando state of mind - an attitude that he/ she can do anything, endure anything, and achieve the objective. A blend of complete confidence and extreme tenacity instilled in special forces during training. Can also be used informally to describe a determined, focused person.  
> atin--stubborn, tenacious, capable of endurance


End file.
